


Monster Under the Bed

by Cuttlecollector



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Demonstuck, F/M, Late 1800s, Victorian, early 1900s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:14:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7500816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuttlecollector/pseuds/Cuttlecollector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miss Jade Harley is carrying on after the death of her grandfather. She finds that a young woman living on her own gathers quite a bit of unwanted attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Proposal

Cold yellow light glowed from humming electric bulbs. The dark, damp building had so many burnt out bulbs that it was a wonder if any could read the sign of the antiques shop.  
Rain tapped the windows, as soft as a cats paw on hardwood. Puddles formed in small wells between cracked cobblestone, splashing upward around horse hooves and cart wheels. All bustling to escape the summer storm.  
A young woman dressed in black trudged home through the rain, not a care in the world for the damp or her sodden clothes. Gentlemen passed her by briskly, manners forgotten for the rush to return home to warmth and cover. She did not mind. She drew a grandfather key from her coinpurse and slid it into the lock of the old door. It gave way with a haunting creak, it's maw gaping entry to the hollow chasm of its bowels. 

Shiny trinkets lined the shelves of the shop. As a child she remembered climbing the counters and creating stories of the adventures one must have encountered to collect such whimsical and wonderful treasures. Her grandfather would laugh, hoisting her upon his shoulders and educating her on the wonders of the world. Dirigibles that could soar from one horizon to the next, carrigages that could propel themselves forward of their own accord, such wonderful magical things he had heard of. She could still see the ghost of her younger self, squealing with laughter as she ran amongst the towering shelves and artifacts. 

"I'm home grandpa." She greeted, as cheerful as she could be, to the portrait behind the counter. In the portrait her grandfather stood proud, one leg poised upon a overturned tree with a shiny brass gun in his palm, smoking from a recent shot. His face was young and smiling, tanned from the sun and dusted with dirt. It was but a short week before that he had joked about how the painting made him feel young whenever he looked at it.

She rubbed at raw eyes, exhausted, and unable to feel upset even if she wanted to. The day had taken its toll. Many wished to send him off, despite the rain, and while she was surrounded by people, she felt that there was a sense of emptiness to the funeral. Hollow stares, dry eyes, meager condolences.

With a heavy heart she hefted her wet skirts and climbed the stairs to the upper living quarters above the store.

~~~~~~~~

Head aching, she awoke to the sound of birds outside her window. Dreary storm clouds had dispersed and the morning sun was bright and full of good tidings. She couldn't help but smile. Her garden would be gracious to have such a wonderful sunny day. 

With a stretch she rose from her bed, dressing for the day and pinning her long dark hair back in a braid. Most women her age were wearing their hair up in pristine buns atop their heads. She found it harder to wear her favourite hat in such a manner. She plopped the old straw hat atop her head and tied it's ribbons under her chin in a hurry.

Her grandfather would never have let her suffer the day by grieving. He would have wanted her to go out and enjoy the wonderful day ahead of her. And that was just what she was going to do

Cyclists passed along the trail behind her fenced garden, waving her way as they passed. Most people shopped regularly at the shop, and many paused to inquire about when the shop would be open once more. To which she would reply, "the day after tomorrow, sir. We have a new shipment arriving in this very afternoon!" With a smile and a nod. 

She had begun to busy herself about her bean poles when someone knocked upon her gate. "Well good morning miss Harley. I pray you're fairing well?" A frequent customer with a charming smile and warm blue eyes greeted her, whilst allowing himself in through the gate.

"Good morning Mr. Egbert. Thank you for your concern, but I'm doing just fine today." She greeted with a smile in return.

John Egbert was a kind man, clever as a whip, with a real knack for the arts. He played as a pianist every Sunday at church, and often travelled to events to play for presidents and important events. The two had grown up as neighbors, and often would send messages between their homes on a laundry line as children.

"That's wonderful!" He grinned, the quickly dropped the smile. "Listen, Jade, I- I have a bit of a question for you." To her shock he seemed downright nervous to look her in the eye. Whatever could it be? "Ask away, John." She encouraged, watching his eyes dance from side to side.

John nervously fiddled with his shirt front before pulling out a beautiful bouquet of lilies. "Well, since your grandfather isn't around anymore. I figured- you don't have anyone to take care of you anymore. So I got to thinking... What if we get married?" He proposed. She stared at her friend, her oldest friend, completely dumbfounded. "John.. I love you with all my heart, but I can't just marry you. That's a different kind of love, and I can't lie about feeling so." She exclaimed the truth immediately.

She didn't have any plans to marry, not when the shop needed so much care. Her grandfathers business was fairly sucecessful in its own right, and she was well off with her own wealth.

John's composure faltered, but he returned with a smile, rubbing the nervous sweat from the back of his neck. "I understand. I just- now that your grandpa's gone you're going to get a lot of gentlemen asking for your hand. I just figured marrying me would help you out." He was very obviously crushed, but he continued to smile on. It was so like him. In a display of gratitude she accepted the flowers and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you John. It was a thoughtful offer. I'll think about it. Should I get any more offers."

Should she ever need to marry to calm the public of her spinsterly habits, she would most likely choose John. Her old friend was kind and thoughtful, and would pretend for her sake for the marriage. As well, he was hardly ever home, and would leave her to her devices without the need to pretend to be a loving married pair. 

That seemed to light the fire under him. "If you have to choose, even if you don't love me, I'll be the best husband you could ask for." He winked charmingly at her and returned back to his own home with a skip in his step. This did not allow her to turn down the offer a second time.


	2. Delivery

Evening beckoned as the street lamps were lit, casting dim shadows upon the street. Her evening shipment had yet to arrive.

 

Her grandfathers old friend usually arrived before sundown to deliver products for the shop.  
She hoped the Old Man was alright. She would feel terrible to know he could not make the distance at his age. He was after all, as old as her grandfather, who had passe of old age himself.

 

The clock passed another hour, striking eleven o'clock.

She had almost given up hope for the man when she heard the familiar sound of uneven wagon wheels on stone. Her breath escaped her in a sigh of relief. The Old Man had always refused to fix his wagon, claiming it worked perfectly fine and hadn't caused him trouble yet. It had a distinctive clatter that alerted her like door chimes.

 

Hastily lighting the stove and placing a kettle of water atop it, she gathered her skirts and hurried out to the front to greet the man.

When she exited the store he was tying his horses to a post, hunched over. His cloak was dusty from the road, and the horses' breath billowed like pale clouds in the cool night air.

 

"I was beginning to worry you fell ill on the road." She greeted, striding forward to embrace her old family friend- but instead of the familiar charcoal grey eyes of the Old Man, her gaze settled on warm brown eyes.

 

"I'm sorry ma'am, but the old man is ill, so I'm standing in to help him." The stranger stumbled out the words, most likely seeking to reassure her. His voice was a low drawl, accented with the twang of the south. "S' long as you don't mind."

It explained why he arrived so late.

 

"How terrible! Will he be alright?" She fretted, glancing about as if she could find some way to help her old friend, despite his distance at the current moment.

 

"Of course ma'am." The stranger assured. "Just a small fever, sure to be cured by the morn' " She felt as though she were taking quite a number of relieved breaths this evening. She said a small prayer for the man's health and crossed herself. The stranger coughed, clearing his throat and catching her attention once more.

 

Upon surveying the man she decided he was young, far too young to be the Old Man's son.

 

"Who are you, sir? His grandson?" She asked curiously.

 

A small chuckle, then a shake of the head.

"No siree. I live by 'em. My family has been as close as a fox to a rabbit's den with his family." What an strange analogy to use. Though strangers from the south had a language of their own she had heard.

 

His had a handsome face with the most pale blonde hair sticking out from under his cap. She noted the way his throat bobbed at the uneven silence, unsure if she wanted him there or not.

He wiped at his face with a handkerchief, removing the dust from the road and revealing a wash of freckles across his nose. " Should I start unloading your wares ma'am?"

 

She startled, realizing she had been rudely staring. "Of course! Let me help you."

 

He calmed at the welcome, leading to the back of the wagon, climbing up and passing off crates for her to lower to the ground. Thankfully the contents were not heavy, so the two managed to transport the items into the shop easily.

He must be a farmer. She mused, watching the way he easily carried three crates at once. Few men in town were so strong, and she herself wasn't a delicate rosebud either.

 

Again, she caught herself staring rudely. "I'll prepare something for you to eat." She stated, before leaving him to the crates.

Perhaps it was time to prepare some tea for her guest. As well to clear her mind.

 

She hurried back to the kitchen, putting out the stove before the kettle boiled over.

"Feel free to come have some tea when you're finished." She offered, checking on him as he opened the crates for her with ease.  
He thanked her and continued with his task, carefully placing carved figures and old weapons on the shelves in all of the right places. He didn't seem to need her assistance in showing where she wanted the items to be placed.

 

When he finally entered the kitchen, wiping sweat from his brow, she had a tray of pastries and tea on the table.

"Please take a seat-" She trailed off, realizing he hadn't offered his name yet.

 

"Dave."

 

"Please take a seat, Dave. Help yourself to something. I'm sure you've worked up an appetite." No last name to offer. Perhaps people didn't use formal titles where he lived. Pouring him a cup of tea, he took a pastry and thanked her.

The tea was sweet and dark, not needing any sugar or milk. They sat in silence, sipping at the tea. Metal clinked against china as he stirred at the tea, spinning the crushed leaves at the bottom of the cup. He seemed uncomfortable. As though he did not wish to be there. She cleared the tension with a friendly smile.

 

"What do you do for a living, sir?" She asked curiously, taking a small biscuit for herself.

 

"I'm a farmer." He answered quickly.

 

"No wonder you're so strong!" She praised, gesturing at him. She could only imagine what a hard worker he was.

They held a short conversation until their tea was gone and the moon was high. She had almost forgotten that he must have a home to return to at this hour.

"I suppose your wife must be waiting for you at home." She picked up their teacups and placed them in the sink, rubbing them clean with a damp washcloth.

 

Dave's freckled cheeks flushed and he looked down at his feet. "I don't have a missus ma'am."

 

That surprised her. A hard working young man like himself would be an excellent husband. Perhaps there were not many eligible young ladies where he lived.

"What a shame. You'll make a lady lucky one day." She placed the freshly washed teacups back in the cupboard. She could feel his eyes on her back, but the presence disappeared as she turn to face him once more.

 

"Thank you ma'am." He replied, almost bashful.

 

It was not long after that the two said their goodbyes.

"Thank you for the tea." He smiled, offering a hand for her to shake. She took it, noting his how gentle the handshake was despite his strength. Most men seemed to find pleasure in knowing they could display their strength by the way they shook hands. It was very considerate, knowing that he could easily crush her hand in his own.

"It was lovely meeting you. Please do tell the Old Man I hope he feels better soon."

 

"I will."

He paused, looking her up and down. There was the heavy weight of his gaze upon her again.  
"I get the feeling you're going to have a busy week." He paused, stumbling over his words "- What with all your new stock I mean. Get some rest. It would be a shame to see those pretty green eyes looking tired."  
He reached up and brushed aside a strand of her hair that had come loose of its braid, silence filling the air. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry as she struggled for something to say. To thank him for his concern perhaps?

In that moment she could have stared at this stranger for hours. His charming lopsided smile, that tousled blonde hair and comforting brown eyes made her completely forget about all that had happened in the last few days. Which she had been finding very hard to do on her own.

She shook the feeling, clearing her throat delicately. "Thank you for your concern. I will do my very best." She took his hand and shook it, trying to forget the way it gently had brushed aside her hair only moments ago.  
It was such a strange action from someone she hardly knew. It was almost like he understood her, and wished goodness for her. And should anyone else have done it she may have been offended at the unwarranted touch.

But oddly- not him.

"Get home safely." She smiled, opening the front door for him.

He tipped his hat at her and exited without a second glance back at her.

She stood there, watching him leave. Some foreign part of her wishing he had glanced back one more time with those cinnamon eyes of his.  
And she watched the silhouette of the wagon disappear in the night, every detail of it carved into her memory.

Finally, she returned inside, and then she thought to herself; How very strange- he must have run over a small animal. For blood had smeared the edge of one wagon wheel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The proposal of John Egbert spread gossip through the town.

Jade's refusal seemed to be the news of the decade, and many lined up at her shop in hopes of winning the heart that could not be stolen- or so the morning paper stated.

With an aggrivated groan she folded the newspaper up once more, abandoning it by her cold porridge.

The foolish behaviour of every eligible bachelor in the county was effecting her business.

 

Sure, the store was always busy, and new customers were drawn in out of curiosity; but because of the constant proposals and her refusing each one, everyone seemed to leave the store empty handed.

She thought back to the day John had proposed, only a handful of days prior. His proposal had been earnest and true. Her childhood friend did not know the storm he had started, and only looked out for her well-being.

He cared so much that in the few days since all he could do was apologize every time he saw her.

 

If only she could have accepted his hand then.

But she would not be seen as a hypocrite. To refuse so many and return to the original man she turned down flat. People would believe she were vying for the attention of the media.

And so she remained, exhausted by the mess of it all.

 

The new stock seemed completely forgotten by the public. Dejected, she abandoned her breakfast to walk around the store.

The early morning sun highlighted the curves of old bronze shields, jade jewelry, an old sarcophagus, and so much more. The store was a true treasure trove.  
Could her customers really be so enamoured with the idea of having her over the wonderful artifacts her grandfather had made his life?

 

Her hand passed over an ebony carved figurine on one of the shelves, fingers tracing it's carved features, remembering Dave carefully placing it and it's brethren on the shelf. He had guessed she would have a busy week, and was correct about that much.

 

Perhaps today would be a new day.

Maybe, just maybe people would come to their senses, and return to seeing her store as the precious jewel she saw it as.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think is going to happen in the next chapter!


	3. Countdown

In the weeks following her grandfather's death the town seemed haunted by ill fortune. Robberies of stores and carriages and rumours of escaped criminals committing the string of crimes. Even her neighbour's barn had been set ablaze the night prior, burning the entire winter's share of hay. The town was in complete chaos.

Every townsperson from the youngest farmer's child to the members of town hall gathered in the square in a panic, attempting to regain some manner of structure and order to the city. Some requested higher police forces, others an armed community watch. Jade herself was all for the latter suggestion as a woman with a rifle collection she could make herself an asset to community safety.

The mayor settled the matter down to a vote. In three days they would count the ballots and decide what the people wanted to do to stop the destruction of their beloved town. 

________________________________

Day One:

Jade's house was freezing in the late November air. Someone had stolen all of the wood from the homes on her street, preventing fires to be lit at night. 

She wrapped her feet in as many layers of socks as she could fit, piling knit blankets around her like a bird would weave itself a nest. 

Her fingers were numb with cold when she awoke and she shivered so deeply she felt it to her core. 

A kind neighbour from down the way greeted her as she retrieved her newspaper, offering her three logs of wood for her fireplace. There were not many to spare due to how many were stolen, but the three could keep her warm the next night. She thanked him graciously and returned to her newspaper.

No new crimes had occurred during the night, much to her relief. 

 

Day Two:

They found bodies. 

Two floating in the river, their bodies bloated and swollen. Clearly long-dead and placed into the river to be discovered. Another was found on the edge of the riverbank, it's bowels cut open and spilled across its lap like a picnic blanket. Animals had begun to feast on the corpse. This one was fresh.

A terrified tingle ran down her spine as she read the grotesque news. None of the crimes appeared to make sense. No specific persons were targeted, and the crimes were always changing, from murder to petty crime and everything in between. 

These villains could strike out at anyone.

That night she bolted her windows and doors securely, placing her rifle beneath her mattress for safety. The decision would be made the following day on how to deal with it all. And for the time being she planned on requesting a stay at the Egbert house for safety. 

 

Day Three:

She awoke to the crash of breaking glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one but I wanted to continue on a little bit since everyone has been waiting so long for more!


	4. Intruders

Glass shattered, collecting in an unceremonious heap at the storefront. Figures dressed in black snuck in through the window, unafraid of townspeople who may have wished to intervene.

No one in this town had the guts to act after the fear had begun to stir. They could feel it heady in the air, like the musky perfume of an underworld den calling them.

The humble shop was quiet in the dead of the night. Stocked shelves glistened in the moonlight cast through the empty frame of the window, aglow like riches in the tomb of an ancient pharaoh. The intruders skittered around, not making a single creak on the floorboards, nor a rustle of their cloaks. Deep shadows moved upward aong the walls in search, whilst others rifled along the shelves in search of something or another. 

Eerie echoed whispers hummed from the beings, inhuman and haunting. Their pitch remained low, like a natural sound coming from the very earth itself. Soft padded fingers brushed along woven bags, sliding delicate artifacts inside one by one, only the most delicate click of glass and metal and wood brushing against each other could be heard.

With footsteps like mice some slipped free into the street and off into the night with their priceless items, disappearing almost entirely from sight. 

Others searched the back of the store, and behind the home. 

Floorboards softly groaned, and one creaked slow and drawn out in the air. The sound made it not too startling to hear it followed by a rustle and a click, and a furious feminine voice announcing clear to the cold night. 

"Get out of my store you worthless criminals!" 

She cocked her rifle, pointing the cold iron barrel down the stairway, dead centre with the head of one of her intruders. To her surprise the being began to move up the stairs, perhaps thinking she would back down in fear. 

She grit her teeth, voice hollow but unafraid as she stared down the shadowy form in front of her. 

"I'm warning you." She hissed, finger itching at the trigger.

The figure continued to advance, mere steps away now. She made a sound in supreme disgust, pulling back the trigger with a crack that echoed out into the night, causing dogs to howl in the distance.

The intruder slumped forward, teetering toward her before tumbling back down the stairs with a crash that was almost as loud as the gunshot. The remaining figures ran like rats caught in the pantry, leaping out the shattered window and into the night. Shouts could be heard from people on the street, and the whistle of a sheriff on horseback chasing the cloaked figures.

She realized then that sweat dotted her skin and she was breathing heavily, having held her breath as she shot the form that now lay crumpled at the bottom of her staircase. Neighbours dashed into the store, guns at the ready to defend her. 

She raised her hand to the newcomers, breath tight and tense as she reassured them that she was not harmed.

Haunted blue eyes met hers from the bottom of the steps, overlooking the figure at the bottom fearfully before leaping up two at a time and taking her into a tight embrace. 

"I'm okay John," She breathed, still in shock that she had been forced to shoot another human being. "You're shaking." She gave a small laugh, hugging him back tightly.

"I'd feared the worst." He finally managed after swallowing back a sigh. "I thought you had been killed and we would read about your body being found in the paper next." Her old friend was positively bristled by the experience. 

"How do you ever think I felt." She whispered, watching as people bustled around downstairs, checking for remaining intruders and pulling the dead body onto a stretcher to be taken to the morgue. 

They had freed him of his cloak- for she could now see that it was a male- and the face of his corpse was twisted in agony like none she had ever seen. His cheeks were hollow and grey and he seemed to age before their very eyes from a middle aged man to a thin and withered skeleton.

She grasped John by the shirt in fear at the sight.

"By the name of God what happened to that man?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little better than the last chapter! Hope this one made up for it.  
> What do you think will happen next? Leave me a comment below and I'll be sure to answer with as much detail as I'm willing to spare!


End file.
